A Misty Morning
by AngelicGirl
Summary: Another Sev/Lily Poetry Fic. What if Lily and Harry had survived Voldermort's attack? How would she go on? Read how Severus lends a hand (literally) Please R&R.


In this story, Lily and Harry survived the attack by Voldermort, and only James was killed. Lily, still alive, is grieving for James, while Severus realizes how close she was to death. The poem is not mine, but the work of  
  
  
  
  
  
A Misty Morning  
  
It Sunday. A misty Sunday morning, complete with gray-silver fog rising over the lake and a sun obscured by sky too thick. It does not matter if it hails or snows or lightning darts about -- it is Sunday, and I am going no matter the circumstances.  
  
I throw a cloche over my shoulders, and make way to the castle entrance, with purpose in every step. I walk the entire way to Goodrich's Hollow, all the while breaching the chilled mist, taking in the morning. I prefer the evening to day, but there is something very delicate about that misty morning. It was the subtle battle of the dieing darkness being pushed away by light, chased further across the world. Strange, the night is always fleeing from the sun, a never-ending pursuer, as is my guilt, which I cannot seem to escape.  
  
Carefully, stelthly, I approach the twisted rot-iron gate. I squint through the fog; looking.... you are not there yet. I step back from the gate, to rest in my shadowy nook between the graveyard and the church, hidden by the twisted branches of dead trees.  
  
  
  
Although I enter not,  
  
Yet round about the spot,  
  
I often hover;  
  
And near the sacred gate,  
  
With longing eyes I wait,  
  
Expectant of her.  
  
  
  
And, there, through the haze, I spot you -- your black cloche of mourning, a symbol of your steadfast dedication to a dead husband. The once- wild red hair tied back, beneath the hood. Empty emerald eyes stay fixed on the dirt ground, as you enter, passing right by me, as I hide in the shadows of morning. And pass...continues onto James' grave. You did not see me, you never do.  
  
  
  
My lady comes at last,  
  
Timid and stepping fast,  
  
And hastening hither,  
  
With modest eyes downcast;  
  
She comes, she's here, she's passed!  
  
  
  
Your frail form bent over the fresh earth. Carefully, you place a Lily on the grave, and began to speak to your husband. Your eyes light, and you smile, even laughing at yourself. You speak of your growing child, and the beauty of his face. Lily lives, lily lives in the shell of you yet. I would not pass through the gate: I would not sully the grave of my rival will ill feelings while his wife declares everlasting love. I was beyond such blasphemy. And yet, I wonder, it the loss of James what hurts you so, or the loss of you husband?  
  
  
  
Kneel undisturbed fair saint,  
  
Pour out your praise or plaint,  
  
Today and tomorrow;  
  
I will not enter there,  
  
To sully your pure prayer,  
  
With thoughts of sorrow.  
  
  
  
It hurts me to see this, though it is like a deadly drug, and I am addicted to the sight of you. My heart tears. You are not Lily, with your dull eyes -- oh, they are bright now, Lily is within you. Lily, she possesses this empty body, soulless, each time it bends to his grave. I feel perhaps you reside there now. Lily, your soul and heart are parted, your soul wants to continue on, but your heart is broken. Is there no room for a living soul in those vacant eyes of yours?  
  
  
  
But suffer me to pace,  
  
Round the forbidden place,  
  
Lingering a minute,  
  
Like outside spirits who wait,  
  
And see through Heaven's gate,  
  
Angels within it.  
  
  
  
I see you rise, is there no way to entrap Lily and bring her back, through those iron bars surrounding this graveyard? Is there truly nothing worth your wile out here?  
  
Lily...  
  
Your eyes dart up. "Who's there?"  
  
I had not known I had spoken.  
  
"It's Severus" I whisper, comming out through the mist. You see me now, and walk towards me. I hold my breath...one step...another.... only a pace or two from the entrance. When you come to me, through that gate, you will be empty again.  
  
You pass, and pause. I see you look up at me. Your eyes. Lily's eyes.  
  
"Lily?" my voice trembles. Can you really be here, how can you still be? It must be a dream, and yet I see the warm sparkle in you, and the life in smile. You're smiling Lily; god only knows how it happened!  
  
"Out for a walk?"  
  
"Yes, but I don't think I'll be needing to come this way anymore" I confess, feeling the urge to cry with joy.  
  
You breath in deeply, and I can feel you waking up again, your senses rather. I can see you starting again, the new seedling from a withered flower. My Lily has returned.  
  
"It's much too nice a morning to spend in this dreary place, would you like to join me for a while?" you ask.  
  
"More then anything."  
  
You take my arm, and we walk off towards the sun: I have no need to flee from it now. 


End file.
